


Just Friends

by dcisamtyler



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Non-Graphic Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:07:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25597798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dcisamtyler/pseuds/dcisamtyler
Summary: Written for a request on Tumblr.After you and the Doctor go on an adventure without Martha, she confronts you about it...in bed.
Relationships: Martha Jones/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Just Friends

**Author's Note:**

> This is not full smut. It's relatively non-graphic but rather suggestive. I'd say it's normal late-night TV standards vs. HBO standards. If that bothers you, please don't read. Thank you!

“I can’t believe you went off without me,” Martha hissed. 

Your eyes shot open and you nearly froze. Well, that certainly wasn’t what you expected to hear while you were in that position. It definitely wasn’t what you wanted to hear, nor was that tone. You could hear the disappointment dripping from the words.

But that was just how Martha was as a person. If there was something bothering her, even just a little itch, there would be no forgetting about it. Headstrong and confident, Martha never feared confrontation. While that was admirable and one of the things you loved about her, bringing something up while the two of you relaxed in her warm bed, didn’t seem right.

You silently cursed her stubbornness. But as you hungrily moved your tongue on her lower body, you hoped that would be the end of it.

Of course, it was stupid of you to think Martha wouldn’t notice your quick adventure with the Doctor that morning. But as you left, you stopped by her bedroom and saw the light off. You didn’t want to wake her up. She needed her sleep, especially after the night the two of you had. In fact, you were hoping this night would move in a similar fashion after you waltzed into the room with tousled hair, dressed in her favorite skin-tight outfit. The one that could easily be taken off.

This was your nightly ritual, after all. No mission with the Doctor out in time and space would keep you from it. The Doctor could offer all of the stars on a silver platter, but you’d still pick Martha every time. Nothing would beat having her in your arms, her heart softly beating against yours. She was the whole Solar System and then some to you, yet it appeared she had forgotten.

Slightly indignant, she sat up against the headboard without warning you. Your tongue slid up and a little moan escaped her lips. Ha. Her voice remained steady, though, as she swallowed hard and continued, “With the Doctor, no less! Seriously, Y/N, we’re all supposed to be friends.”

Normally, the sound of that word coming out of her mouth frustrated you. But you refused to let it bother you. Not this time. You held all the power. 

Smirking against her body under the blanket, your fingers gripped her thighs harder, making another moan leave her lips. She didn’t even have time to say your name as your nails dug deeper, and you began to suck her in the right spot. Just the way she always liked it. She responded quickly, a hand flying down to tangle itself in your hair. She writhed underneath your mouth, your tongue moving happily against her. A warmth built in your stomach and you couldn’t help but smile.

Martha hummed through her moans, hoping they wouldn’t sound so obvious. Instead, they came out strangled, and frankly, even hotter. That wasn’t the intent, though, and you knew it. She was still mad at you for what you did without her that day, after all. You had to admire her stubbornness. But you had your own qualms with this.

“Friends” was a silly little word that had no relevance to the conversation. You and Martha were not friends in the slightest. Well, you might have been in public and in the Doctor’s eye, but behind closed doors, it was hungry kisses and bodies flush against each other. Hands that turned into fists as they clutched the fabric of your clothes, pulling yourselves closer together.

The two of you snuck into each other’s bedrooms at night. You’d quietly wind your way through the dark TARDIS hallways with starving tongues. Who, in their right mind, would call that platonic?

The current scene certainly was anything but platonic. Martha, her upper body against the headboard, her body hidden underneath a blanket, your head between her thighs. You couldn’t see it, but you bet Martha had her eyes closed and lips parted in a state of bliss, clutching at the sheets with one hand. Anybody who stumbled upon that would know you weren’t “just friends” which is why Martha always tried to silence her moans in the first place. The TARDIS was loud enough, but the last thing you wanted was the Doctor finding out about the two of you.

It wasn’t that he wouldn’t be supportive, of course. But the Time Lord was clumsy with his intelligence. He always managed to get himself involved in things he shouldn’t. That lovable idiot would accidentally mess it up somehow. You and Martha’s situation wasn’t even properly labeled and it felt too fragile.

You peeked your head out from under the blanket, catching your breath as you felt the coolness on your cheeks. Raising an eyebrow at Martha, you joked, “Oh, so that’s what we are? Thanks for the update, pal.”

Martha made a face and whined a bit at the sudden lack of contact. You shrugged and continued to sit up on your knees, ignoring her silent request. You stubbornly left your hands resting on her thighs, terribly close to where your head had just been. 

Sure, it was pretty rude of you to tease her and leave her like that. She was still sensitive and unfinished but you were sick of the constant tip-toeing around what you were actually doing together, adventures aside.

You repeated your original question. This time, you kept your gaze on her, your tone serious. She waved you off. Still frustrated with you, she tried to move underneath your hands, moving to use her own. You stopped her.

She let out the breath that she had been holding and met your eyes. “No, I just—” she sighed. “I just don’t know what to call this.”

You scoffed. “This? This is me eat—”

“Not that, Y/N. All of this. Us.”

“What do you mean?” You certainly hadn’t heard her use that word to describe you. While you believed that you were an ‘us,’ Martha seemed hesitant to declare it.

Martha crossed her arms in front of her chest. “When you run off with the Doctor, our best friend, to visit planets without me.”

“You were still sleeping, babe. I wanted to let you relax.”

“How’s that supposed to make me feel? Did you ever think about that?”

Well, clearly, you didn’t. You regretted it now. She could have woken up to your arm around her waist and face nuzzled into her neck, but instead, she woke up to a half-empty bed and a quiet TARDIS. As you imagined it, regret pooled into your chest.

She lifted her eyebrows at you, her eyes full of disappointment. Your silence wasn’t an apology. “I can handle myself, Y/N.”

You sighed, licking your lips and straightening your spine. The air in the room, once warm with lust, now felt cold and tense. “So you want me to leave, then?” you half-joked, trying to lighten the mood. 

Martha let out an exasperated groan, but a smile tugged at her lips. She couldn’t resist you and stopped you from moving off the bed. At her touch, you inched your way forward, folding your arms and resting your head on her chest. She immediately wrapped her arms around your waist. “For the record, darling, you will never be chopped liver to me,” you murmured, looking up at her from under your lashes.

Martha laughed softly. “Just promise me that you won’t leave me behind next time. No matter what time it is.”

You happily agreed, disappearing underneath the blanket again, pressing soft kisses down her body until you ended up at your original position, nipping at her thighs.


End file.
